


Behind My Back, I Already Am

by detritius



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Come Shot, Denial, Embarrassment, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 13:58:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detritius/pseuds/detritius
Summary: Yosuke has a second of total clarity. It’s too late. He’s too far gone. He’s going to lose control, and Kanji’s going to see and he’ll know everything, everything Yosuke’s been trying to hide.Continuation ofI Keep Telling Myself, I Keep Telling Myself, I’m Not the Desperate Type





	Behind My Back, I Already Am

**Author's Note:**

> I exist! I’ve been working on this for awhile, along with a bunch of other things, actually, in between real life stuff. My focus has really been all over the place, which it probably why I don’t finish things more often.
> 
> Title from "Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On a Bad Bet" by Fall Out Boy.

“What the hell?”

  
Yosuke’s mind goes into freefall. Kanji’s eyes lock with his, wide and uncomprehending. There’s nowhere to run. In that moment, neither of them even breathes. Then Yosuke’s scrambling, covering himself with his hands, shouting through the cloth in his mouth, _no, don’t look, don’t_ \-- ! All he manages is a wordless, useless cry, a strangled plea, and even as he struggles to get the words out, his cock surges, thickening – _no no no no no_! He grips it tight around the base, trying to hold it back. _Kanji, I’m_ \-- He’s coughing and sputtering, drooling all over himself as he tries to spit out the gag. All he can see is the frozen shock on Kanji’s face. Something hot and wet slicks his shielding palm.

Yosuke has a split second of total clarity. It’s too late. He’s too far gone. He’s going to lose control, and Kanji’s going to see and he’ll know everything, everything Yosuke’s been trying to hide.

  
There’s nothing he can do about it.

  
And with that thought, something breaks inside him. He cries out as he’s struck by violent spasms, his hips thrusting up against nothing, pummeling the air. Heat courses through his veins. His joints turn liquid and he falls, hitting his knees with a shock of pain that should slow him down, but it doesn’t, another jet of pre shooting over his fingers. He pitches forward, barely catching himself on one hand, and in that moment, he just gives in.

  
It only feels good for a second, but it does feel good. It feels fucking incredible. Then it all comes crashing down and he’s wrecked, drained, trembling, prostrated on the floor, his head down and his ass up as pulse after pulse of hot come spurts over his fist.

  
_I’m sorry_ , he thinks. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry_.

  
He’s drenched in sweat, gasping, so weak he can’t even stand, but his hips keep moving, sloppy-screwing his fist as if he could keep some scrap of pleasure from slipping away from him. And it’s no good, but he can’t stop, stroking and squeezing, milking every last drop of semen out of him. Fuck, there’s so much. Has it really been that long?

  
He can’t remember the last time he came so hard.

  
He’ll be lucky if Kanji only beats him half to death.

  
Kanji’s still standing in the doorway, making rough, inarticulate sounds like he’s trying to remember how to speak. He hasn’t moved, not one step. He stood there and took it all in.

  
“Damn, Senpai.”

  
Yosuke’s eyes sting. He wants to scream at Kanji for watching him, for _doing_ this to him, for fucking him up so badly that _this_ is what gets him off. But he doesn’t have the strength. He can’t even look at Kanji. He wants to run, but his pants are tangled hopelessly around his legs, and anyway, there’s nowhere to go. He wants to sink into the floor and disappear.

  
All he can do is curl in on himself, struggling to control his thick, wet breathing, close to crying from humiliation.

  
Kanji takes a step toward him and his heart leaps into his throat. All he can think is, he can’t face the other boy, he isn’t ready for that, but he _really_ can’t let him look at his wet, spent, softening cock. He can’t stand it. He yanks his boxers up and wipes off his hands, and okay, at least if Kanji kills him, it won’t be with his dick flopping around. God, to even think that… He’s so pathetic. And maybe he deserves whatever’s coming to him.

  
Resigned, he lifts his head and looks up at Kanji with watery eyes. _Do it_ , he thinks, and tries to brace himself. Hit me. _Go on, I know you want to_.

  
But when their eyes meet, there’s no hostility in Kanji’s face, just the same shock from before. His cheeks are pink and flushed and… Through his haze of tears, Yosuke sees a trickle of blood dripping from Kanji’s nose.

  
“Kanji…”

  
Kanji wipes the blood off and resettles his restless hands. He stares down at his feet, at the floor, anywhere but at Yosuke. Quietly, he says, “I never seen anything like that. Not in my whole life.” A few more drops of blood spill down his chin.

  
Yosuke’s mouth goes dry. _No… no way… don’t tell me…_ He doesn’t want to know, really, but his gaze is drawn helplessly down Kanji’s body. He’s standing funny, stiff, like he’s hurting somewhere. His shoulders are hunched, his muscles hard and tense. His hands are clasped in front of him, protectively over his groin. Kanji sees where Yosuke’s looking and turns an even deeper red.

  
He swallows visibly and moves his hands aside, revealing the bulge straining against the front of his pants.

  
_Is that supposed to make us even?_

  
“W-what the hell?!?” Yosuke sputters, “You – you think I want to see that thing?”

  
He can’t take his eyes off it. This is nothing – seeing the outline of Kanji’s hard-on is _nothing_ , compared to what Kanji just watched him do – but he can’t look away. It really doesn’t help that, from what Yosuke can see of it, Kanji’s cock looks _good_ , like it’s got some weight to it, probably a nice thickness, too. Nothing to be ashamed of, that’s for damn sure.

  
To his horror, he feels his own poor, wrung-out cock twitch against his thigh. “I can’t get enough, is that what you think?!”

  
“Can’t get enough?” Kanji asks.

  
“It’s not like that!” Yosuke insists. “I’m not – I wasn’t thinking about you! I _wasn’t_ , alright?”

  
“Why would you be thinkin’ about me?”

  
“You want me to say it? I don’t like guys. I don’t!” His voice breaks. “Just, sometimes, I…” Sometimes he thinks about Kanji using him like a sex doll or getting fed up and savagely fucking him. He thinks about that, and how it wouldn’t even feel good, really, how mostly it would hurt, and how he’d blow his load anyway.

  
He has to think about that stuff, because deep down, he knows it’d be so much worse to imagine a guy like Kanji being gentle with him.

  
Kanji’s voice is quiet and unsure. “Sometimes what, Senpai?”

  
Yosuke looks up at him. He’s standing there with such an open, vulnerable expression on his face, twisting his hands together like he’s fighting the urge to cover himself again. The dull red flush that started in his cheeks has spread down his neck and under his shirt. He’s shifting from foot to foot, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, and Yosuke remembers what he’s known all along: Kanji is shy. A big, tough guy like him, it doesn’t even seem possible, only, the tough guy thing is just an act, a way for Kanji to protect himself, the same as how Yosuke pretends to be cheerful and upbeat on days when he can barely keep from screaming. This… this is who Kanji really is. He isn’t pulling back behind his mask, cussing and yelling and trying to pick a fight. He’s so nervous, being seen like this, and he’s letting Yosuke look anyway.

  
“I guess…” Yosuke says, without even meaning to, “…I like the thought of you just taking it.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Taking… taking advantage of me. Thinking about that… It gets me excited.” He feels like he could die from all the blood rushing into his face, but he’s already said the worst of it, and he can’t just leave it there. “Listen,” he says, “you – you’re scared of being rejected, right? When you faced your Shadow, that’s what you said. So wouldn’t it be easier if you just… just went ahead and… A guy like me, it wouldn’t matter if I turned you down. You could just… just do what you wanted. I mean, look at me. I wouldn’t be able to stop you. And maybe… maybe I wouldn’t want to.”

  
“That’s messed up, Senpai.”

  
“You think I don’t know that?!” If Kanji was laughing at him, it would be easier. But Yosuke can’t stand the pity in those eyes. “Don’t look at me!”

  
Kanji kneels in front of him, grips his chin, and lifts his head so they’re locking eyes.

  
“What’re you doing?”

  
“I’m lookin’ at you.” His voice is hoarse, and unbearably gentle. “You said not to, and I’m doin’ it anyway.”

  
“Oh.”

  
“Is – is that okay?”

  
“I don’t –” Yosuke says, helplessly. “I’m not –” But when Kanji starts to back off, Yosuke reaches for him.

  
He sees understanding in Kanji’s soft gray eyes. “You ain’t like me,” he says. “I know that. I know.” Hesitantly, he touches Yosuke’s cheek. His expression is raw as he says, “So tell me to stop.”

  
“Stop,” Yosuke breathes, and closes his eyes.

  
At first, it’s just Kanji’s big hand on the side of his face. His palm is a little damp, a little sweaty. Yosuke can feel him shaking. His own hands ball up in the front of Kanji’s shirt, just for something to hold on to. Kanji’s breathing against his mouth, fast and irregular. His heart must be beating so hard.

  
Kanji’s forehead bumps against his. Their noses touch. Softly, their lips meet.


End file.
